


Wandering Winchester

by Yuki_Kuma



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Supernatural
Genre: F/M, hunter reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-16 20:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16502006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuki_Kuma/pseuds/Yuki_Kuma
Summary: Poor little Y/N couldn't stand the Hunter's life. So she ran away, hoping to find a new place to call home. Unfortunately, evil has a tendency to follow her, which makes blending in that much harder. Will she be able to protect her new home or will she die trying? Find out here!





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

 

 

_This can’t be happening._

_You just got her back It all happened so fast._

_The rift, Lucifer, your mom._

_“Sam, Dean..” You choked on a sob, grieving over the loss of both your mother and dear friend Cas._

_“I can’t do this anymore.” Sam Winchester clenched his jaw, tears threatened to spill from his sorrowful eyes while he held his sobbing sister._

 

_“Oh you want out?” Dean snarled, quick to anger._

_“You think that just because you don’t want to do this anymore the bad guys will cut you some slack?” He shouted at the hysterical girl._

 

_“I can defend myself if I need to!” you protested, quieting down your cries._

_“I don’t want to keep living this life where there’s no way out!”_

 

 _Both of your brothers lookedat you with unreadable expressions._ _“Y/N, believe me I’ve tried to get out of this life._

_It didn’t end well, and the love of my life was killed because of me.”_

_Sam began, trying to coax you back into a sense of security._

_“We just don’t want you to end up getting killed too.” Dean was silent, his anger hadn’t dissipated._

 

_“I know where you’re coming from, I get it. But i’m capable on my own too! I just…”_

_You trailed off, twiddling your thumbs. “I need a break..that’s all i’m asking.”_

 

_“Fine.” To your surprise Dean was the first one to say something._

_“You go off and do your little thing while Sam and I stay here and deal with all this shit.” He said, raising his voice._

_“Run away from your problems, be my damn guest.” He said and left the room._

_His words shook you to your core. It hurt having that come from your biggest role model._

 

_You were a **coward** in his eyes._

 

_With everything out in the open, Sam and Jack had wished you their goodbyes before you embarked on your journey._

_But not Dean._

_So you left, with your hunter schemes and credit card hacks, to find a new home._

_A little close knit town called Riverdale._

 

_Little did you know, you had just become Riverdale’s next big mystery._


	2. New Beginnings

Chapter 1

 

The tires of your bike squealed to a stop.You took off your helmet and hopped off of your baby after turning her off.

The town was quiet, it had to have been past midnight judging by how dark it had gotten.

You were standing in a motel parking lot, and fighting off your exhaustion.

After you checked in, using a fake credit card, you plopped down onto the bed.

And while you were tired, both physically and emotionally, you weren’t able to fall asleep.

 

Before you knew it the sun had risen, and you could hear the other guests of the motel getting ready for the day.

You had maybe gotten two hours of shut eye, too much had been on your mind. Sitting up from the bed, you ran a hand through your dirty hair.

You thought about grabbing a shower but your laziness compelled you otherwise. Food sounded good though.

And with that thought you shimmied out of bed, your bare feet colliding with the cold tile of your motel floor.

You hadn’t bothered to change out of your clothes from the previous day, they were still clean by your standards.

And you were used to your brothers wearing the same musty clothes for days on end while cramped in the impala.

You slipped on your beat up boots, sprayed a bottle of cheap fragrance and tied your hair into a bun.

You glanced at yourself in the small bathroom mirror. You looked like you had seen better days.

Black eyeliner smudged underneath your bottom lids and your lipstick had smeared up to your cheeks.

Normally you would care and wash your face immediately but you just stared at yourself.

What was the point of looking appealing? Who were you supposed to impress?

 

“Coward.”

You muttered to yourself bitterly.

You rubbed your lips with the back of your hand which only smeared the dark gloss further.

With a defeated grunt you turned the sink on. The scorching hot water stung at your dry and chapped lips.

The lipstick melted away, turning into droplets and falling off your chin.

You left the eyeliner be, not caring if you looked like a raccoon. You scratched the nape of your neck and turned the sink off.

You closed the door to your room, and hopped onto your black beast and started her up.

You remember seeing signs on the freeway about a dinner a few miles from here.

 

With the wind blowing through your flannel over shirt, you felt a smile creep onto your face.

Only on the road, with your bike did you feel free.

No one could take away this feeling from you, you had no worries, just the open road and the calls of nature.

You saw the sign for the dinner up ahead, slowing down to a stop once you entered a parking space.

There were only a few cars on the lot, presumably the workers at the the shop. You looked up at the shining neon sign.

 

‘Pop’s’ it read.

 

From the outside it did look like a homey restaurant.

You took your helmet off, tucking it under your arm and walked up to the doors.

Next to them you noticed there was newspaper box. “Old habits die hard” you said to yourself while grabbing one to read while you ate.

You walked in, signaling a bell. An older male from behind the counter smiled warmingly.

 

“Sit where ever you like ma’am, I’ll be with you shortly.” You did as you were told, opting to sit at a booth, close to the window.

Your eyes scanned the small diner, finding it rather charming. The man came over with a menu and a notepad.

“Good morning, anything I can get you to drink?” He asked.

 

“A black coffee would be lovely.” You said with a polite smile. He nodded and went and brought you your drink.

 

“You passing through Riverdale?” The man asked. “Don’t believe I’ve seen you around before.”

 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been travelling. Wanting to see the rest of the country.” You said.

 

“I hope you enjoy your stay in Riverdale, it’s a small but beautiful town.” He said with a very wide smile. You looked at the tag on his apron, Pop.

 

You returned his smile, “Well if everyone here is this welcoming I think I’ll find this place very enjoyable.” Pop nodded his head.

You gave him your order and he left you be. You sighed, glancing at the newspaper.

You scanned through it, and found a headline that piqued your interest.

 

_**‘Cult Killings In Neighboring Town Greendale.’** _

 

You read through it, some teachers had gone missing into some woods and were found disemboweled and with reverse pentagrams drawn on their foreheads.

 

“Probably witches.” You muttered, making a mental note to stay away from Greendale.

If a witch found out that a Winchester in town, that would only lead to trouble.

And trouble is what you were avoiding.

 

“Witches huh?” You jumped, ready to grab the knife you had tucked away in your boot.

You looked up and saw a teenage male with black hair and a gray beanie looking at you with an amused look on his face.

“Hate to break it to you,” He said, inviting himself to sit across from you.

Your knuckles turned white from you gripping the handle of your knife.

“But witches aren’t real.” Your hard stare burned holes into his head.

“I mean, yeah Neopagans exist, but satan worshipping, spell casting witches aren’t real.” He continued, feeling your glare only worsen.

“Of course pagan is just an umbrella term, considering how many polytheistic religions there are, but to blame a Luciferist type of sacrifice on the

modern day Neopagan is so lame and ignorant.

Pagans get a bad rep.” He concluded.

He surprised you, you weren’t expecting a local from a small town to know the difference between a Luciferist and a Satanist and he left you stunned.

 

“I wasn’t referring to Neopagans, however there are ‘witches’ that practice witchcraft in the name of Satan.” He looked at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“If you really think about it, spells are just prayers with a twist.” He hummed in amusement.

 

“And with Samhain approaching, i’m sure their prayers will be heard” He joked. You choked on your coffee.

 

“How did you pronounce it?” You asked, The boy looked surprised.

 

“Is it not pronounced how it’s spelled?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “SAHM-HAY- N?” You shook your head disappointed.

 

“Local boy, I had faith in you.” You sighed. “It’s pronounced ‘Saw-When’ It’s a celtic holiday that celebrates the past harvest and honors the dead.

It’s the spiritual new year for pagans.” You said, taking a sip from your coffee.

“And contrary to popular belief, Samhain doesn’t belong to just one day like Halloween.

It’s the day exactly between the Fall Equinox and the winter solstice, so this year Samhain falls on November 5th, not October 31st.” The boy nodded, impressed.

 

“You know your stuff.” he mused and stuck out his hand. “Name’s Jughead Jones.”

 

“Jughead, what an odd name.” You snorted. “Y/N Winchester.” You said and returned his gesture, shaking his hand.

 

“What an odd name.” He mocked with a ghost of a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is referencing The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina.


End file.
